February 2nd

They let me keep my diary, if you hadn't guessed already. They said it was good for me 'to vent my feelings'. Vent my ass.

It is a strange place, Gallagher. The people here are actually crazy, unlike me. At night I can hear Marie, my roommate, whimpering and clutching her teddy bear. She's 17.

I've only been here for two days and I knew it was hell. Three support groups a day. One drug addiction invention. And a meeting with my 'personal councilor'. At least he was hot.

I've only been here for two days and I wanted out. I knew I was slowly going to go insane. Even if they thought I already was. Trust me, they didn't want to see me go crazy.

Fuck this. I'm getting out. I don't care how long it takes, I'm getting out. And I'm getting out my way.

I know I'm not crazy.